


Scorn

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Discovery, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: F/M, Light Bondage, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:20:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21565204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Sarek’s in the doghouse.
Relationships: Amanda Grayson/Sarek
Comments: 6
Kudos: 60





	Scorn

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Amanda obviously has something on her mind, because rather than slipping beneath the blankets of their bed, she sits squarely in the middle, boring holes into his back as he strips out of his clothes. There have been occasions in the past where she’s watched him change with reverence, and he’s felt that prickle of interest rippling through their bond, her breath hitching as he sheds each layer of clothing. But this isn’t that. Her expression is hard, her mind closed to him. When Amanda wants to be mysterious, she’s very much so, and Sarek, for all the years he’s spent by her side, stands no chance of understanding her. He changes into his pajamas with his usual calm efficiency whilst withering that look. He assumes he’s displeased her in some way. It will have to do with Spock, like it usually does. Each of their children is a different bone of contention. Each of those children is grown and out in the universe. Sarek continues on with his usual routine the only way that he knows how. 

When he’s finished, he strolls to the bed. He doesn’t let his eyes linger along her supple frame, though he’s always thought she looks especially lovely in that particular white nightgown—it stands out against her vivid skin, the intricate lace complementing the long waves of her hair. He likes how much it exposes of her shoulders, though it’s hardly _proper_ , and he appreciates the relatively short length. But he suspects this won’t be a night where his appreciation will be well received. 

He climbs under the covers on his side and lowers down, head resting on the pillow. He commands the computer, “Lights off.”

It complies. The tall windows behind their bed allow starlight to stream in through the trees, T’Rukh rising in the distance, so there’s still plenty of illumination with which to see Amanda. She looks down at him and orders, “Put your hands above your head, husband.”

Sarek lifts one brow. He complies, raising both arms, and Amanda collects them in her delicate fingers. She presses them squarely against the headboard and draws down one of the thick straps mounted to the metal hoop. 

As she fastens the restraints around his wrists, Sarek reminds her, “I am not entering _pon farr_.” Thus, there is no need to tie him up. That is what the restraints are for. There is no risk of him unleashing his full Vulcan strength upon her frail human body tonight, nor will there be for some time. Amanda must know this—it’s just as imperative for her to keep track of his cycle.

She finishes securing his wrists to the headboard, then leans over it to fetch the leash that trails down behind it. As she’s pulling it out, she explains, “I know. But I’m annoyed with you.”

Sarek frowns. He allows her to place the collar around his throat and adjust the settings, but he points out, “That does not sound like an ideal time to do this.”

The collar clicks into place. There are several more devices tucked under the bed, because Sarek is a man of great strength, and one set of binding alone might not be enough to secure him. At his worst, when his hormones are raging through his body, he’ll fight against them, doing anything he can to have her. Tonight, his logic is in control. Amanda slips off the bed and reaches beneath it for the box of extra accessories. Once she’s dropped it on the pillow next to Sarek’s head, she peels the blanket off him and begins collecting the items she wants to use. He presses, “Amanda.”

Amanda sighs. She pauses her work long enough to glance down at him and bluntly ask, “Sarek. Do you want to be right, or do you want to come?”

Once again, she’s demonstrated her supreme lack of logic. But Sarek knows his answer, so he holds his tongue. 

He allows her to continue preparing him to her satisfaction, and then she climbs on top of him, and Sarek forgets any disapproval of her methods.


End file.
